


Four Heads Are Better Than One... Normally.

by I_cant_write_well_but_its_fine_and_dandy



Category: Gorgeous Freeman, HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life, freeman's mind
Genre: Doesn't follow his canon, Freemind is just fucking mean and loud, Gen, Gorgeous can read ASL, Gorgeous is basically a different person, HL Gordon deserves a better group to be stuck with, I swear to god they aren't being shipped, OG Freeman honestly deserves a hug okay, They literally hate each other so much, We try to forget about that, except drop the ableism and slurs, like normal, they all hate each other, we don't vibe with that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_cant_write_well_but_its_fine_and_dandy/pseuds/I_cant_write_well_but_its_fine_and_dandy
Summary: One man, stuck in a pit, what Crimes will he commit?Then Three more join and chaos ensues.
Kudos: 18





	Four Heads Are Better Than One... Normally.

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: Descriptions of eye trauma on Freemind, mentions of accidental self-harm resulting from anger outbursts. Also reference to slurs, none are said though.

A dull thunk of his skull against plated metal woke him up, his eye groggy. He glanced around with a frown, taking in his surroundings. The orange plate metal, the destroyed experiment… He knew where he was. He didn’t want to admit it, though. He smacked his hand into his forehead, the metal of his glove ripping a small hole into his forehead. He grumbled, wiping the spouting crimson from his skin  
“Man, this fucking blows. I want to go back to Massachusetts.” He grumbled, standing up shakily. “Ugh, my.. Fucking head. Feels like college..” He muttered coldly. Dried blood, some his own, and some from other creatures, stuck in dried clumps throughout his beard and hair. A bloodied, now scabbed over, chunk of flesh had been ripped from the right side of his face, the eye having blurred to a dirty crimson days before. Most of his right ear had also been ripped off by a turret. A few guns hung from his beaten metal suit, bits and pieces having been chipped away. The pieces that remained hung from his figure by some kevlar and rubber. A rocket Launcher was strapped to his back, the weight offering him some unforgiving aches and pains. And here he was, trapped at ground zero once more. He hadn’t the faintest idea how he ended up back in the chamber he had begun this nightmare, but it wasn’t a welcome sight when he woke up. He blinked a few times and rubbed at his seeing eye, the vision going blurry for a minute before it cleared, showing him the blinding orange of the room once more. He groaned loudly, like a child being told to clean, before pulling his crowbar from the strap across his back. He’d have to do this the old fashioned way.  
He walked around the chamber aimlessly, searching for anything, a loose side plate to pry up to get out, or a weak bit of the wall he could break through with his crowbar. After 3 minutes, he had found nothing. He growled and kicked the cart that had once contained the pure sample.  
“GODDAMMIT!” He shouted, grabbing his crowbar and smacking it hard into the cart. “WHY IS THIS MY RESPONSIBILITY?! WHY AM I HERE?! GAAAH!” He screamed in frustration, punching the metal plated wall. He shouted in pain, hot tears pricking his eyes as a loud crack rang through the room. He threw his body against the wall and collapsed, grabbing his injured wrist.  
“Motherfucker… I’m going to kill someone! I’m gonna fucking kill someone!” He banged his uninjured fist against the metal, the loud clang filling the room. He smacked his head back against the wall and groaned loudly. “Let me the fuck out of heeerrreee.” He droned loudly, almost sounding bored. “You fucking pussies keep me here because you’re scared!” He shouted, climbing to his feet. He smacked his crowbar against the walls once again, shouting unintelligible words mixed with a colorful vocabulary of slurs. He finally quit when he realized he was really alone.  
“This is bullshit, man.” He growled, sitting against the wall again. He shook his head and let out a primal scream. Not of pain, more of frustration, anger. All of the feelings that had been bubbling since this shitshow had started. This was torture, and it was about to be even worse as he was left to die in a fully sealed room, alone. No one but himself for company. That’s what he had wanted, right?  
...Right?

No, he could have guessed that after the third day of sitting alone in a broken lab. He had tried to pass the time by hitting the portal. Maybe that would bring something up, a beam of electricity to destroy the blast doors, maybe? He gave up on that when the crowbar shot back at him after a hard strike, cutting deep into the flesh of his shoulder. Just his luck that his suit had given out right there. He shouted in pain and dropped the metal bar, grabbing the quickly bleeding wound, as if covering it with his hand would stop the ooze of crimson. The blood stained the orange metal of his gloves, drips of the liquid falling to the floor.  
“Mother fucker… You stupid mother… fucker..” He muttered, falling back against the wall and sighing as he clenched his fists. “...God..” He muttered. His vision went red and his anger exploded, “...GOD DAMMIT!” He shouted, throwing the crowbar as hard as he could. “YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER! I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOUR PARENTS!” He screamed. “YOU’RE FUCKING NOTHING, I’M GORDON FUCKING FREEMAN, I SHOULDN’T BE IN HERE! LET ME OUT!!” He shouted, throwing himself into a run, launching himself into the door. “YOU FUCKING WHORES, LET ME OUT!!!” He banged his fists on the door, kicking and shouting at it. All of a sudden, the doors outside of the blast doors blew open, and in stumbled 3 men, all donning some variation of the suit he had. He glared out of the windows in the blast doors before a booming voice came over the loudspeakers.  
“Gordon. Freeman. Please step. Away from the. Door.” The voice rang around the room. “Like hell I’ll take orders from you!” He shouted, glancing around. “Let me out!” He demanded.   
“Gordon. Freeman. Please step. Away from the. Door, Now.” The voice repeated. He growled and crossed his arms. “Why should I? What are you gonna do about it, bitch?” He shouted. As soon as the words left his lips, a dart was shot into his neck. He yelped, grabbing at the prick in his neck. It was too late for it anyway, the tranquilizer had already begun pumping through his veins, his heightened heart rate not helping at all. He collapsed in a matter of moments, the heavy metal suit clanging to the floor with his limp body being dragged down with it. The blood from his shoulder painted the orange metal. After the disembodied voice was sure he was done, they allowed the three other men in, slamming the blast door behind them.

The men had been walking around the chamber quietly, inspecting it as the other man was passed out. One of them was quietly muttering to himself, more nervously than anything. One of the men was completely silent, peering around the room silently. The last one had a smug grin on his face the whole time, checking himself out in the reflection of the beaten metal. They all looked over in tandem as the waking man groaned, blinking quietly as he awoke. He looked around quietly, catching one of the men in his view. “...Who the fuck are you?” He grumbled at him. The man in question was tall, but rounder in some areas, a dad body as many would suggest. His skin was darker than the man who had spoken, most likely a mixed heritage. His hair was curly and was tied into a ponytail, streaks of gray running through the dark brown locks. His beard was a bit longer than Gordon’s, and his glasses had a crack through the lens. The other men in the room had similar features, each of them donning a beard and glasses. “Who.. Who the fuck are you?” He muttered to the men, going to stand up before almost falling again. “D-dammit..” He growled. One of the men stepped forward to help Gordon get footing but he batted him away. “Don’t touch me! Who are you?! Answer my questions!” He demanded from the three. The taller one stepped forward and cleared his throat. “I’m Gordon Freeman. I don’t know how I got here, And I have no clue who these two are.” He gestured to the silent one and the one checking himself out. The first Gordon barked out a laugh. “I know I look awesome, but you don’t gotta pretend to be me!” He smirked, but the other Gordon just raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what you mean. I am Gordon Freeman, I’m not kidding.”   
The first man frowned. “I’m not fucking slow, dude. Just admit it, What’s your name?” The other man frowned. “I don’t think this is very funny. Who are you?” He pointed at the silent one. “You. What’s your name?” The man looked him up and down silently before holding his hands up slightly. ‘My name is Gordon Freeman.’ He signed, looking between the three. Two of them stared at him like he had just grown 3 heads. He sighed quietly, this was going to be hard. He was going to try and translate before the one who hadn’t joined the conversation yet, the vain one, chimed in. “He said his name was Gordon Freeman as well.” The other three looked over to him.   
‘You can read signs?’ The silent one signed again. He nodded and looked over at the other two men. “I guess I’m the only one with a different name?” He frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Gorgeous Freeman. In the flesh.” The other three stared at him like he was an alien, and the frown etched deeper into his cheeks. “Whatever. You three seem to have a.. Naming situation. I might have an idea.” He nodded, smirking like a jackass.  
“Oh my god- Get on with it.” The first Gordon growled. Gorgeous held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, calm your tits. You can be… Freemind. Because you clearly have one of those.” He muttered, earning a growl from Freemind. “Let’s see… You.” He pointed to the taller, rounder Gordon. “Where were you before this?” He asked. “I.. was with a group of scientists.. And a security guard.” He answered, figuring specifics weren’t needed.   
“Coolio. So… I guess you could be...Hm.” He thought silently. “...What’s something people called you?”   
“Uh… The security guard called me a lot of things, mostly Gordon Feetman, but-” “Great, that’s your name.” Gorgeous cut him off with a smile. Feetman tried to protest, but he was blatantly ignored. “And you can be Freeman.” He pointed at the mute Gordon. He thought for a few seconds before giving him a thumbs up. “Great! We got names sorted. Now… How-”   
“There’s no way out.” Freemind muttered, crossing his arms. “I’ve been trying for 3 days, this room is built like it’s meant to take a damn missile.” “Well, you’ve never met me.” Gorgeous smirked, nudging Freemind. It earned him a rough thwack to the side of his head. “Rude..” He muttered, walking over to the blast doors. He looked around and spied the crowbar that had been thrown. He picked it up, admiring it for a few seconds before shoving the sharp end between the doors. The other 3 watched silently as Gorgeous, with all of the strength in his body, forced the blast doors open. He turned back to Freemind with an asshole smirk. “I’ll wait for my applause.” “You’ll be waiting a while, then.” Freeman grunted, walking past him. Gorgeous shrugged and followed after him, Feetman and Freeman tailing behind slightly. And they were off.


End file.
